![]() | Tracy Brooks is a lifelong writer. After reaching success with her facebook poetry page, www.facebook.com/soulbeckons, she is now in the process of writing her first book. When not writing,she is busy homeschooling her children, receiving wisdom from her dog, teaching yoga to young people, and offering various spiritual practices to others. www.tracybrookswriter.com |
I came here as water
in spate being
reverent mists
unreachable depths
eternally dancing
living
flowing
as both a ripple and a swollen ache
calm
yet
never stagnant
consuming in my undercurrents
life-affirming
drizzle to downpour
inexhaustibly giving
surrendering at will
belonging to the beyond
renewing in my flow
stillness as a pause
never ceasing
flow to breath
unstoppable
—
be brave
there is courage in the air
for you are a warrior
even though you’d rather be off watching the sky
not all fighters are on the battlefield
many are gentle ones
holding vessels for the worlds big pain
Tracy
is born out of an unspoken power
what’s in a name
do the roots tangle or nourish?
I believe both are necessary
It’s brave to just believe
—
a haiku on breath–
to breathe so fully
every sense is present
sweet exhalation
—
MAY WE REMEMBER
I would like to let the world
find its way
gently
to a place of possibilities
untethered
paradox of darkness
burning in the light
lately
so many tragedies and destruction of soul
earth holds it all
and she is howling
writhing in pain
inner screeching no longer
beings have been boiled over
and fear is an awful captain
feeling that too many have pulled strings
and tied knots in places and spaces
while so many have been silenced and made small
we are wrought with this unquenchable chaos
born out of deep seated heartache
when so many are silenced
when so many get numb
we are led to the place of forgetting
why we are here
losing sight of any kindred connection
fear morphs into anger
and rage is so much louder
then all the raspy voices
collapsed from trying to be heard
yet
somewhere right this moment
a baby is being born
people are holding one another
souls are taking their last breath here
in love
only love
the sun is creeping up
seeds burst underground
oceans swell with promise
friends are bearing witness
women are dancing
men are singing
children are laughing
dogs are waiting for their humans to walk through the door
there is love
so much love
we are praying and crying
forgiving and trying
and
we
somehow
remember
—
day 28
ask me of the song and I will tell you
what sings to us in the darkness
are we getting to know who we are
when we fall lost
where are we
are we stepping outside of what confines us
or striving too hard to fit in
is what we push out growing us
or draining us
can you hum the tune
do you even recall the sound of your song?
—
day 27
-haiku for Nepal-
God speaks everywhere
in languages no one knows
earth often howls it
—
day 26
-Mamasong-
the voice I heard before arriving
gentle in the tones of a mother’s way
be it singing sweet tunes of finding sunshine
or inquiring what the days desire was
still touches me
the very voice of yesterdays promises
still find their way into my head
you sing still from beyond here
and the melody holds me upright
life is lifted in the humming
your voice is like the forever winds
—
day 25
When the winds caress me
I hold open my tired soul
bowing to the places that Spirit meets me
rain falls down upon me holy
soil pure between my toes
under the fallen purple blooms
God hears me call
—
Poem 24
REFLECTIONS
humbled by the notion
that I can like what I gaze upon
much more fully than early days
I see a sense of wonder in my eyes
a place that has looked beyond
as it helps me to stand in appreciation and loving
towards myself
as my children are always watching
have always caught me and stopped me cold
if the gaze is not loving
what am I teaching?
to enter the relationship with oneself
and allow the imperfections
perhaps to see the cracks as unique etchings
to hold the beauty up differently
nature knows
and to realize that life will show up as beauty
and as wretchedness
as soft as newness and ripe fruit
as rotten as decay and heavy achings
I too hold my beauty and grace
and also my darkness and fear
so now I show up at the mirror as I show up at the yoga mat
awkwardly attempting
ever so tenderly
to love what is.
knowing what is is like the wind
and I am only like water
reflecting what I touch
—
Poem 23
ON BLESSINGS
final sips of coffee
the soft snore of my four legged friend
who has stayed by me for every chapter
not even leaving to chase the ridiculous cat
the way the house is kissed in the early morning sun
makes even the piles seem perfect
strawberries and kisses with the cutest five year old in town
the texts of a man with the purest heart
the teenage pulls in the other room
hints of life way beyond the seen
the way the words want to be danced out of me now
everyday and ordinary blessings surround me
thankful breathing
grateful movement
may I hold it softly
always
—
Clumsy Cento
Makes me smile at the thought
Considering my life
fragmented wholeness
where worries hunt
I left long ago, from all such occasions
I never liked rules…
splashed over me Holy
maybe it’s not about understanding
I am smudged and dappled
It’s refreshing like stretching out
embrace each part of me
—
what gives me comfort
is the way the earth holds me
the way my body breathes me
the eyes of a partner who has rode the waters
alongside me
what gives me comfort
is the way my pup greets me
every dawn
as if the day was perfect
just as it is
what gives me comfort
is the way I watch my children
question everything
as it tells me seeds are deeply planted
and when my time is up
it all still continues
what gives me comfort
is the whispers of those that have already left
this earth walk
for they let me know it only gets better
what gives me comfort
is letting words spill out of me
from the deeper spaces
and hungry places
—
The very first book I fell in love with
still resides nearby
I recall ever so sweetly
Caroline and all her animal friends
became my friends
daily we would recreate the adventures
the travels
the magic
the treasures
vivid are they still
in my heart and in my bones
Gratitude swirls deep every time I turn these tattered pages
—
—
WALKING WITHIN MYSELF
contrary place we all sit with
layers of skin we peel
boundaries adjusted
something had to give
water is hard to grab onto
flesh is harder still
emotions will hide
something had to take
my younger self was not as brave
my older me is not as confined
bittersweet integration
something has to change
I tried to carry yesterday
I asked to hold today
the two disagreed like stubborn children
something had to fall
I stand upon the wayward spots
I ask the bones to lead
my emptiness confounds me
something has to leap
—
Do not hold on to anything.
Embrace the moments you walk through, the people you connect with, yet do not grasp.
Allow all of this unsettled life to run through you, trying not to pause any place too long.
Do not collect too many wishes, let the sweet intentions pulse out of you daily.
Holding on too hard may make your blinders pinch you,
and you will not be able to see what is.
Clinging to the what happened stops us from walking on.
We are not meant to stay stagnant, this life is the journey to embrace change.
Let go. Like the winds upon the water, trusting the flow of it.
Release the need to carry judgements, in yourself and others.
Do not carry around the weight of worry,or let guilt be kept beside you.
Do not cling tightly, even to love.
Love is meant to be walked with sweetly, tended to gently,
given away freely.
Do not hold on.
—
Listen to the silence, in between the pause
of what is said, of what you breathe,
of what you struggle with —
here lie the the breadcrumbs,
the clearing,
the beaten paths of forgotten mornings—
recall the way the early light showed you
what it was like to move freely,
before the afternoon gave rise to the regrets
and ruminations.
—
—
DON’T WAIT HERE
—
—
—
I’m still collecting ideas of me
threads of connections
—
I see the many ways pain tried to take him
—
—
—
I want to say
—
Bow to the Process
-(inspired by “The Woodcarver” and creating very first book)
Pacing in the confines of everyday
I return to a much simpler call
Here I am
emptied
unencumbered
freed
untethered
allowing whatever arises
remembering where the stirrings reside
trusting to share would be giving
Meeting what is
sensing what was
looking pain in her eyes
calling on the joy of this life
letting them speak
not interrupting
knowing Spirit is with us
Bravely becoming a gentler presence
stepping softly
into the bones
among the ashes
and
not turning away
the unformed
unnamed
or
unclaimed
letting the connections
untangle
No longer pulled by the outcome
just sweetly held open by the process
I bow